With Friends Like These
by cuteandilusian
Summary: What if Phoenix had visited Edgeworth in Germany during their college years? What happens when Miles takes Phoenix up on an offer to visit him after his murder trial? And what would Miles think of Phoenix as a bum? My attempt to weave their relationship into the canon. Naru/Mitsu with Noko/Mitsu later...
1. Prolog

Disclaimer: Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney and associated characters belong to Capcom. Songs, artwork, and videos all remain the property of their respective creators. No money is being made off this, and no claim of creation except for the story itself by the author is implied.

_It might __**not**__ be __**the right time**__  
I might __**not **__be __**the right one**__  
__**But there's something about us**__ I want to say  
Cause __**there's something between us **__anyway _

I might _**not**__ be __**the right one  
**__It might __**not**__ be __**the right time  
**__But there's __something__ about us __I've got to do  
__Some kind of __secret I will share with you_

_**I need you**__ more than anything in my life  
__**I want you**__ more than anything in my life  
__**I'll miss you**__ more than anyone in my life  
_**_I love you more than anyone in my life_**

- Daft Punk, "Something About Us"

* * *

October

2016

Prologue:

"How do you feel about Mr. Edgeworth, Nick?"

The question caught Phoenix Wright off guard, especially when asked in his young assistant's most serious tone.

"How do I feel about him?"

They were sitting in the office after the conclusion of the Silver Samurai murder trial, after defeating his old schoolmate-turned-demon-prosecutor for the second time in as many months. He had bought a sack of burgers and two chocolate shakes in the hope of keeping Maya in a good mood as they finished up the paperwork. She had reacted enthusiastically, but he now noticed she'd set aside her quarter-pounder with cheese half finished.

She shifted uncomfortably, eyes downcast. "Yes. And think carefully. The answer you give might save you a lot of heartache later."

He slurped some soupy shake noisily through a straw, finding it tastelessly gluey in his mouth, making it hard to swallow. "I don't know," he answered finally. "Why?"

The girl sighed and wrung her hands. "You knew him before didn't you? Before the trials?"

"Well yeah, we knew each other in fourth grade. Like I told you."

"And you haven't talked to him since then."

Phoenix paused. "Well, yeah." He felt his face grow red; "sorta."

She looked up imploringly. "Please tell me. It might be important."

Putting down his cup, Phoenix signed. He might as well tell her. "Miles left elementary school without so much as a goodbye. I heard his name again when I read it in the papers." He left out the many times he had written the name Miles himself. She didn't need to know what he put in his diary. "It was when he became a prosecutor, and they reported on it because he was so young. I found out then that he was in Germany and I sent him some letters and emails and stuff, saying, like, 'hey, good job man,' yadda yadda yadda." He unconsciously scratched at the nape of his neck. "I actually did go to see him while I was on a trip over winter break. He was, a bit distant, but I thought that was just him growing up. But then, well…" he shuttered involuntarily, remembering the highs and lows of that one weekend in Berlin, and how it changed his life. Shaking his head he said, "we, uh, lost touch again after that, and it was not until, oh I guess another two years later that I saw the Demon Prosecutor article. What's this all about anyways?"

"When Mr. Edgeworth came to tell you... to say he never wanted to see you again, he wasn't lying." Phoenix felt his stomach drop a little at that, but he tried not to let it show. "But, his reason for not wanting to see you was a complete lie. He doesn't hate you. I think you did something good. The way he helped you." Her small face was puzzled, searching for meaning in this statement.

"Hm. It was really strange, the way he kept the witness talking and even pointed out a hole in her story that let me get her to confess."

"I guess I just wanted to make sure you knew that."

"Well don't let it get to you," Phoenix smirked and let his arm rest lightly on her shoulders. "Edgeworth has always been like this. If you want to know if I still care about him, well yeah. I do. Do I think he still needs help? Yeah I do."

Maya picked up her burger. "Ok Nick, I trust you. Just be careful, okay?"

"I promise."

* * *

Chapter 1 coming soon! I have to run off to work... :-P


	2. Chapter One Part 1

_Breathe and I'll carry you away into the velvet sky  
And we'll stir the stars around and watch them fall away  
Into the Hudson Bay and plummet out of sight and sound  
The open summer breeze will sweep you through the hills  
Where I live in the alpine heights  
__Below the northern lights I spend my coldest nights  
Alone, awake and thinking of** the weekend we were in love  
**__  
Home among these mountain tops can be so awfully dull  
A thousand miles from the tide  
But photos on the walls of New York shopping malls  
Distract me so I stay inside  
I wish the rocket stayed over the promenade 'cuz I would make a hook and eye  
And fish them from the sky  
My darling, she and I were hanging on so take us high  
To sing the world goodbye_

_I am floating away_  
_Lost in a silent ballet_

_I'm dreaming you're out in the blue and I am right beside you  
Awake to take in the view**  
**__  
Late nights and early parades  
Still photos and noisy arcades  
My darling, we're both on the wing  
Look down and keep on singing and we can go anywhere_

_Are you there_

_Are you there_

_Or are you just a decoy dream in my head?_

_Am I home or am I simply tumbling out alone?_

_I am floating away  
Lost in a silent ballet  
I'm dreaming you're out in the blue and I am right beside you  
Awake to take in the view_

_Late nights and early parades_  
_Still photos and noisy arcades_  
_My darling, we're both on the wing look down and keep on singing_  
_And we can go anywhere_

_Are you there_

_Are you there_

- OwlCity, "On the Wing"

* * *

January

2012

Chapter One-Part 1: The Weekend

The white wind whipped through the cold city, the obstinate concrete structures and faces of German monuments seemed to glare through the light flurry of snow that blew down the grey streets. Though there were cars driving past and the din of everyday was all around, the world seemed to have fallen suddenly silent. Miles Edgeworth stood shock still, his face unmoving stone, but his heart racing like a jack rabbit's.

"Miles! Surprise!" A voice from his past. Not much different, if a little deeper than the voice which had remained in his mind for almost 10 years. "It's me. Do you recognize me? Did you get my letters?"

He wore red earmuffs, a black down jacket, jeans, trainers, and an absurdly long scarf.

This was not how Miles had ever envisioned his Friday afternoon; not in a million years. Manfred and Franziska had bivouacked down in one of their country estates, finalizing their efforts for Francesca to become a prosecutor. Edgeworth was left on clean up duty, tackling both the research and filing of his own cases and those left by his mentor. He had actually anticipated a rather easy few days; time to catch up, to organize, to put things in order. He'd walked out of the courthouse, expecting to breathe in the sharp crisp winter air before heading back in to stick his nose back into a dusty book.

Not this. Not something that would unorganized his tidy, if restrained, life more than anything he could possibly imagine.

Seeing _him_ again after all those years shocked him, and his eggshell heart cracked, not knowing what to do with him. _He_ was here. In Germany of all places. He marched stiffly down the cement stairs. Phoenix put out his arms as if to embrace him.

"What are you doing here?"

"You recognize me?"

Miles held his breath. You sent me your damn school picture, you idiot.

"Wright."

"Right! Believe it or not I'm here on a foreign exchange trip. To the Berlin University of the Arts. Wild, eh? I had your address, so I thought I'd look you up. Did you get my letters?"

Edgeworth looked down at the spiky-headed young man before him.

"Hm. Yes."

"Why didn't you write back?" Phoenix took a few steps forward, up the stairs. His eyes were imploring, so goddamn innocent.

Why? You had been nothing but a fantasy for so many years, and then suddenly you come back and become reality? It was as if a character in one of my childhood storybooks suddenly started up a correspondence. What would you do?

Edgeworth took one more step and met his advance, the two of them coming nose to nose. The past was already welling up within his chest. The earthquake, can't breath, the scream. The following months of pain and suffering, of hospital stays and sedatives. He felt his palms begin to sweat, and tamped down the rising panic.

"Go away."

Phoenix, not seeming to take him seriously, not knowing the turmoil that raged within, pressed on. "That's not much of a welcome for an old pal."

Breath billowed around his wind whipped rosy cheeks. He looked so… alive. Edgeworth answered, "I don't have time for you. For friends. They're a distraction."

"Hu," Phoenix said absently, patting his crossed arms together for warmth. "That doesn't sound very fun. Can we go inside, I'm really cold."

"Leave."

Miles wanted to say more, wanted to say so much more… but he gritted his teeth, turned on his heel, and ascended the stairs once again. It was how it had to be.

Phoenix sneezed.

Miles paused. Heard the pad of footsteps coming up behind him. A familiar hand fell on his shoulder, bringing memories of younger more innocent days bubbling up thought the cold still surface of Edgeworth's psyche. He shrugged off the hand before he could think more about it.

"Please?"

This is not good. What would von Karma say? Well, von Karma wasn't here, was he? So what would Miles say – the old Miles. The one this strange bird who was Phoenix Wright seemed to remember, and had traveled thousands of miles to visit?

"You never could take care of yourself," Miles said, not turning. "No wonder you're always sick, you are not dressed for this weather. Come in to my office."

"You have an office?"

Edgeworth chose not to answer and strode through the doors.

They reached his office, a very tiny yet elegant room packed with law books and meticulously labeled binders. The desk was immaculate. Miles motioned to an office chair, and Phoenix sat. He'd removed his earmuffs but the long scarf trailed behind him, leaving a wet path thanks to the fact he'd dragged the end through the snow outside.

Phoenix's eyes darted around the room like a caffeinated chipmunk. "Wow this is really… nice."

"Now, what did you want to talk to me about?"

"You've really done a lot so far! I've seen articles about you, about how you became a prosecutor at 19. That's amazing."

"Wright." Edgeworth's voice was steady, but loud. His folded hands tensed almost imperceptibly. "What do you want?"

Phoenix paused, his bright eyes level. He stared for what Edgeworth felt was an uncomfortable period of time. Then he smiled, "I miss you."

Miles Edgeworth opened his mouth, but no words came out. He tried again, then realized how unbecoming it must look to be gapping like a fish. So he put his hand to his face, fingertips massaging his temples.

"I do," the young art student went on, "and like I said, since I was in town I thought, heck why not? I'll just stop by. So, you know, we should, like, go out. Catch up. Have some fun."

Edgeworth peered incredulously through the space between his fingers. "Fun? You have no idea what my life is like now."

"Well come on, let's go and you can tell me about it! It's gotta be around qutting time."

"I don't have…" he sighed and decided not to waste his breath. "My world has changed, my life is different now. You can't understand."

"Ok ok, we don't have to talk about the past, but um actually, I do have a question about, like, the present."

"What is that."

"Well, see, I sort of ditched my group. You know, to come here. And, well, I never did actually register for the hotel so I kinda need a place to stay for a couple of nights. If you'd answered my letter I could have let you know, but I'm wondering if you have some crash space?"

"Crash…. Space?"

Edgeworth stood so fast he nearly knocked his ergonomic chair over. "You haven't seen me for ten years, I've ignored your multiple attempts to contact me, I am very obviously above you in social, financial, and educational standings and yet, and yet for some seriously insane reason you think you can just land on my doorstep and assume I'll welcome you with open arms? Mein Gott! Are you mad?"

"Hey you learned German! Great, that will be super useful in the clubs." Phoenix stood and grinned. "Or do they still call them discos here?" Miles felt the heat that had risen to his face begin to dissipate, and he tried to hold onto the rage. Tried to keep an upper hand.

"You're a fool."

"Yeah." Still grinning. "I must be. I'm gonna take you out."

"Out?"

"Dancing, or karaoke?"

Miles sunk back to his seat. "Between those two, I prefer to stay in."

"Of course you do. That's why people like me take people like you out. Something tells me, just in these brief minutes we've spent together, that the young prosecutor doesn't have many crazy nutjobs friends who make sure he has a good time."

Mile's head was swirling. Cracking whips, stern words and glares. Studying, and studying and studying. "No." he said finally, "he doesn't."

"And, since Larry's not here, I guess the responsibility falls to me. So? Is it quittin' time?"

Miles sighed heavily. "I guess it is."


	3. Chapter One Aside 1

December

2001

Chapter One Aside 1

The room was dark. They were supposed to be asleep. They were at Miles house for an overnight, his two best friends in the world. They'd spent the night eating popcorn and watching some crazy American action movie on TV. Now he was lying on his large queen sized bed, much too big for a 9 year old. He couldn't sleep. Quietly, he crept to the foot and peered over the edge.

Larry, wearing all-red pjs, snored quietly, one leg in and one leg out of his peace-sign emblazoned sleeping bag. He was obviously out for the count.

He heard a rustling then, and snuck around to the other side of the bed, dangling his hands over the edge, his chin resting on the bedding. Phoenix's form was etched in what little light spilled through the gaps around the window blind, his crazy hairdo unmistakable even in the dimness. He was tossing and turning a little bit, trying to get comfortable. Miles watched him struggle for a while, then decided to take action.

He swung his right arm a little, extending one finger and crept ever further over the edge. His fingertip lightly brushed Phoenix's shoulder. No reaction. He poked a little harder.

"Hey," Miles whispered.

"Mmm?"

"You sleeping?"

"Nuh-uh." Phoenix turned a little in his sleeping bag, and reached over in the darkness, catching Miles swinging hand. At first, Miles was afraid he was angry. But when he held it and didn't let go, he thought it must be okay.

"Want to come up here?"

Phoenix yawned, stretched, propped himself up on his arm. "Yeah." Then crawled quietly up onto the bed. Miles scooted back to one side. Phoenix slid under the covers and snuggled in, facing him.

Miles had his own hand on his pillow and the other cushioning his cheek. Phoenix reached over to lay his hand on top of Miles'. He closed his eyes, and soon, they all were out for the count.


	4. Chapter One Part 2

January

2012

Chapter One-Part 2

Out in the parking ramp, they approached Miles' car. Miles had a nice car. Phoenix didn't even have a driver's license.

"Woah! A Beemer?" He slid into the cozy, immaculate interior, admiring the leather, the fine design elements which made everything compact yet roomy. When he shut the door, it was like closing an airlock.

Mile's face was a concrete slab. He didn't know where he was going. He didn't know what to do. Everything he had learned since coming under the tutelage of Manfred von Karma was raging against what he was doing right now. It was Friday evening. He had a mountain of files on his desk he could be working on.

_"::Frivolity is useless; worse than that, a waste of time and money.::_

_"::Do not attach yourself to any person. Disconnect from feelings, for they will only cause you harm.::"_

The advice had served him well to get him through the terror of his father dying in such a violent and… troubling manner. Just lock away any feelings. Become something not human. An automaton. Rational, calculating, successful.

There had never been anything rational in Miles Edgeworth's mind when it came to Phoenix Wright. There was a stirring in his chest, a dizziness in his head, and a very real feeling of desire throughout his whole body.

"Um, helloo?"

His head snapped around to Phoenix sitting in his passenger seat.

Phoenix.

Here.

He looked back out the windscreen. Took a breath. Started the car.

It purred like a kitten.

Food! His brain supplied. "It's still early, let's go get something to eat." A restaurant. That he could handle. He took clients out to some of the finest establishments in the city on a regular basis. He could…..

"How does this work?" Phoenix asked, fiddling with the radio. "Let's get some tunes in here!"

"Don't, it's digital. Voice active…"

SNAP! "Whoops. I'm sure that just pops right back on. He he…. Sorry."

No. On second thought, there was no way Edgeworth was going to be seen at any of the fine establishments he was used to with this person. He needed to go someplace where he would not be recognized. Not easy, as he was a pretty recognizable individual. Still, it was a big city.

Ah. A hazy memory flitted through his mind. Once upon a time, late in high school- or Gymnasium as it was in Germany, he had met a boy. Niklas of the red hair. Niklas-who realized why Edgeworth had no friends, and learned to work within the constraints of his stern upbringing. By convincing Edgeworth it was in his best interest, for business purposes mainly, to know how to talk to people, schmooze them, and yes, take advantage of their very weaknesses, Niklas became another mentor.

He had also become his first and as of yet, only boyfriend. It was short lived, and didn't continue after Niklas went abroad for college, but before he left, he convinced Edgeworth that they needed to go "slumming with chums from school."

_::Pick out the dozen or so boys you think will go places in the world, and invite them out drinking. One night; that's all it will take. Then, in the future, if every you find yourself in need of their service, call them up and remind them of the time you took them all out after school.::_

"I know a place. Great hamburgers. Cheep wine. Lovely," he stammered for a brief second, "clientele." He felt a little dirty, using nearly the same convincing description he had used on the pack of graduates. Niklas had taught him to treat relationships as a game. Play the game right, and you win.

He didn't feel completely comfortable thinking this way with Phoenix.

"Now you're talking! But I want a giant stein of beer, or better yet, das boot!"

"You just said 'the boat.'"

"Boat, boot, as long as there's beer in it.

They arrived at the place and entered through a dark facade which led into a high-ceilinged tavern. After taking their seats at a couple of bar stools near a rail that look out at the Berlin cityscape, Phoenix procured his afore-lusted after huge beer, and Miles ordered a Spätburgunder.

"Cheers," said Phoenix.

"Prost."

They both finished their drinks in concentrated silence and ordered another round.

"So tell me about this place." Phoenix boldly made the first move. "How do you like it here?"

"It doesn't really matter, I'll be going abroad shortly."

"Really?"

"That's the plan. Although I have become a prosecutor, I have yet to appear in court. My first chance will actually come in America, it seems."

"Wow. You excited? Nervous?"

"Why should I be?"

"Well, I always thought you wanted to be a defense attorney. What if you are prosecuting someone for something they didn't do?"

Miles scoffed. "It's not my duty to know that. It is my duty to do my job."

Phoenix pondered this. "That seems rather cold."

"Look out that window, Wright. That world out there is cold. We just live in it. The best we can strive for is perfection in what we do. I have become a prosecutor, and therefore will become perfect at it, no matter what."

"Out there? Naw, that's not cold. Look!" he nudged Miles with his elbow and gestured at a streetlamp. A young couple embraced sweetly in the glow. "You can almost see hearts floating up from them. Love. Amore… what do they call it in Germany?"

"Lieben."

Phoenix tried it, "lieben. Cute."

Edgeworth watched Phoenix watch the couple. His boyish features were completely unencumbered by the weariness of life. His eyes shone with optimism. What a sap. Edgeworth downed his wine and swung around in his seat to face the interior of the bar.

"Then here. Look around. The dregs of society drowning their sorrows, dulling their senses."

"Well, you're here too."

"I shouldn't be. I should be working. I'm only here because you brought me here."

"You drove."

Miles shook his head. "You never quit do you?

"Don't you remember what you used to call me in fourth grade?"

"Hm?"

"Pitbull. 'Cuz I'd never let go."

The tiniest smile curled the corner of Edgeworth's mouth. "Hm. Yes, perhaps I did say that. I always did have an affinity for dogs."

An odd look passed over Phoenix's face. "Not sure how to take that." Phoenix picked up the next round of drinks. "When did you become such a pessimist, by the way?"

* * *

Whew! I am so happy to finally be able to get this story out into the light! Please leave comments-they really do help to encourage us lowly writers (and I will endeavor to do the same)!

I am really trying hard to weave the relationship of Phoenix and Miles into the canon of the story. It's not all as easy as I first thought! If anyone has technical edits, please let me know (I was spelling von Karma wrong for a while, for example, but think I have fixed it now).

Finally, I had a story written about Miles and Niklas (original character) just as sort of a history-building exercise, but damned if I can find it in any of my files or notebooks (note to self: get better filing system). Hell, maybe I never wrote it down and it was always just in my head... Perhaps at some point I will revisit and rewrite that chapter of Edgeworth's life as I imagined it. For now, on with the show :-D


	5. Chapter One Part 3

January

2012

Chapter One-Part 3

As the night wore on, Phoenix continued to chip away at the strange carapace that shielded Miles Edgeworth from the world. Phoenix felt the shell had built up layer by layer over the last 10 years, but wasn't sure why. It was slow going to be sure, but every once in a while, a glint of what he remembered of Miles shone through. He hadn't changed so much then; he was still in there.

They didn't go dancing, and they certainly didn't sing karaoke, but they did stay at the bar for quite a while and had some dinner (Phoenix ordered the only thing he recognized, the hamburger, and Miles got something called a Hühner Schnitzel which just looked like a breaded chicken patty). They decided to take a walk when Edgeworth, who had switched to water after only three glasses of wine in three hours and a meal, decided he still wasn't sober enough to legally drive home.

It was chilly, but the brisk air felt good in Phoenix's lungs, and the dinner had proved to be quite hearty so he felt warmed form the inside out as well. Edgeworth had put on some fantastically thin black leather driving gloves, and buttoned up his long overcoat. Currently, they were deep into a discussion about a certain children's television show. Phoenix had been reminiscing about the last time they hung out, as kids, and what they had been watching.

"That show is still great!" Phoenix said.

Miles shook his head, smiling faintly. "Let's just put it this way, I'm too old to enjoy it any more. You on the other hand should feel perfectly welcome to it."

"We're the same age," Phoenix said.

"I'm much older than you."

"Aw come on! Show me proof. Where's your id?"

Miles paused under a streetlamp. Carefully, with his ever-present elegance, he removed the glove from his left hand, one finger at a time.

"Proof? Look at these hands. These are not the hands of a young man. Dry, cracked, ink-stained, paper-cut. I think I might be getting carpal tunnel syndrome. These are old hands."

He held out his hand in front of him, glaring at it. Phoenix reached up and took it with a light touch, scrutinizing it. Miles' hand was warm from being inside the glove, his palm wide, his fingers long, masculine, defined. How different than the last time Phoenix held this hand. Just like his own hands; larger, stronger, older.

"Hmm."

Turning it over, he ran his thumb over the lines there. He raised his eyes to meet Edgeworth's, who looked more than a little surprised. Phoenix always scoffed at people who described others as having grey eyes; they were just being overly-literary with their descriptions. Eyes tended to lean towards brown or blue or green, he thought, but realized that Miles' were really grey: like a shadow. Or storm clouds.

Miles snatched his hand back.

"Well manicured tho," commented Phoenix.

"Let's go back to the car."

"We're right here," Phoenix said, pointing dramatically. Sure enough, they stood across from the tavern they had been at earlier that evening, under the very light where the lovers had embraced.

Back in the confines of the BMW, Miles sat ridged in his driver's seat.

"Hey," Wright said with concern. "What's wrong?"

"Do you realize what you're doing to me? "

"Hu?"

"You are driving me insane."

"No, you're driving yourself insane. I'm just here in front of you."

"You don't understand."

Miles shut his eyes and leaned back in the driver's seat.

"It's been a long time, Wright."

"I know…"

"Let me finish. It's been more than that. Lifetimes." Miles' eyes tightened. His brow furrowed. Phoenix wanted to reach out, to somehow erase those pain lines, but he truly didn't know how. "There are things I can't even talk about," he said, in an oddly stilted voice. "Things that happened. Things from my past. And if I talked about them…." He trailed off.

"Hey,"

Phoenix shifted, and the leather seat made an aching sound as he did so.

"And so I don't. If I don't talk about my… feelings, I don't feel."

Phoenix felt a hole opening in his own heart, deep and dark. A black hole. He sat across from Miles, in the close confines of the car, but he might as well have been sitting on the moon. He felt farther away than he had when he'd been in a different country. And he wanted so badly to close the gap, to do something, anything, to take away that dark sad emptiness, he did something crazy.

He kissed him.


	6. Chapter One Part 4

January

2012

Chapter One-Part 4

It was an awkward first kiss, as so many young, naive, spur of the moment passions are. But it was brave, and sure, and real. So real, Miles barely had time to register any disbelief, before his body succumbed to this visceral truth.

Holy God, Phoenix was kissing him.

In the midst of Miles' darkest thoughts, as he tried to put into words the reason for his cool demeanor, as he tried to explain why "this" - Phoenix and him talking about the past like those awful things had never happened - couldn't be, Phoenix had leaned over and planted his soft young lips firmly against Miles'.

He couldn't believe it.

But he couldn't _not_ believe it, because it was happening. Miles drew his hands up around Phoenix's shoulders and held him with an almost desperate strength. He fought to breath, like a drowning man, clinging. When Phoenix tried to pull away, Miles pulled him back in, the two struggling slightly in the enclosed area of the car. Phoenix reached down along side the door and flipped the seat tog, dropping it back to almost flat.

Miles grunted as they landed, his eyes opening wide at the sudden loss of altitude. Phoenix laughed once, his smile filling the whole car. Miles blinked, let go of any preconceived notions for the first time in as long as he could remember, and dragged Phoenix further on top of him. The weight of him, the way their winter clothes entangled, the warmth, the sheer wholeness he felt with another body there with him drove Miles nearly mad with bliss. He couldn't fathom the last time he had been this close to another person, if it had ever happened. He drew his face closer, kissing him hard and deep. Wanting it not to end.

Finally, Phoenix rolled over to wedge himself between the door and Miles. The windows were completely fogged, the sky was dark, with only the streetlight glow to illuminate them.

"I… didn't know."

"Yeah," Phoenix brushed at Miles' silvery bangs. "You did."

* * *

Sorry for the break there, and thanks to Blaze Repose for the comments! This posting was a bit weird because I switched perspective in the middle of it. I decided to split the section up since I started out wanting to talk about Phoenix perceiving the shell around Miles, but then I wanted to show the kiss from Miles point of view. What did you think?


	7. Chapter One Aside 2

2001

_"Careless, with tendency to jump to conclusions"_

Miles looked at the card, then looked at his friend.

"What do you think that means?" Phoenix asked.

He didn't know what to say, didn't know how to put it. Miles usually didn't care to be tactful; it was not something that fit his demeanor. But this was his friend, this was _'that Phoenix Wright kid'_ that made such an impression on him. Phoenix was a touchy feely kid, and Miles most certainly was not, but he liked it when Phoenix was near him. He liked it when Phoenix put his arm around him when they stood in line. He got a thrill in his chest when he decided to sit next to Miles at lunch. Phoenix had his hand on Mile's shoulder now as he struggled to comprehend the teacher's statement on his report card.

Miles concentrated. His friend was funny, earnest, clumsy at times, made mistakes at times, but was there proof he was careless? No, not really. Did he jump to conclusions? Yeah. All the time.

"I think," the light-haired boy finally said, "that it means you think you know what you're doing, but you don't."

Phoenix chewed on this a moment. Miles watched, nearly able to hear the gears a' turning. "Well," Phoenix said finally, smiling his easy smile, "that's true. So I guess it's okay. Thanks Miles-I'm glad I have a friend like you I can ask stuff like that."

Miles couldn't help it. He felt his cheeks blush and he smiled and turned away.

"You're welcome, Wright."


	8. Chapter One Part 5

January

2012

Chapter One-Part 5

Following the kiss, things felt simply natural. Miles did sense a hint of foreboding within himself—Phoenix, as far as he could tell, was goalless, and Miles was nothing if not driven to succeed. He also felt guilty. Phoenix, the look of him, his presence, made him feel so good, and all his recent upbringing pointed to that meaning that something was wrong. There was no quick fix, no achievement without grueling effort, nothing was easy. Not to mention the darker things that haunted him. But the memories of their past together smoothed the edges of his current life and made it easy for him to slide into perhaps a somewhat precarious frame of mind.

Well, so be it.

Eventually, Miles drove them to the von Karma mansion. It was late enough that only the gate guard was awake. He yawned and waived the familiar BMW through without much of a glance.

"You live here?" asked Phoenix.

"At times."

"You're going to leave it at that, aren't you?"

Miles glanced at him, but said nothing. After parking the car in the underground garage, he said pointedly, "You are not here. You have never been here. This is not happening." And raised his eyebrows to confirm Phoenix understood. Phoenix nodded, and Miles exited the car.

Taking Phoenix by the hand he pointed. Following his direction, Phoenix saw the security camera in place. "I am well aware of what is viewable from that camera. So follow me, closely."

Phoenix squeezed his hand. "Don't worry."

They worked their way through the labyrinthine access hallways of the house, eventually emerging from a laundry area into a dim, severe living space. Edgeworth let out a breath and snapped on the lights.

Phoenix looked around him in awe. "This is like, four times bigger than my dorm." It was almost a two room suite, with a fine heavy writing desk at one side of the room, with a reading area and a large overstuffed chair. A bedroom with a walk-in closet and master bath was on the other side. A fine plush rug covered most of the cold hardwood floor.

Edgeworth slipped off his overcoat and hung it neatly on a hanger, then stood near his desk. He slid the roll top open and felt around for the secret compartment from which he removed a full sized bottle of red wine. Phoenix perched on the nearby armchair, still gawking. From the pen cup Miles took a corkscrew, removed the foil and opened the bottle.

"You really are doing okay for yourself, aren't you?"

Miles, engaging his selective hearing again ignored this. But he did crack a smile. He removed a wine glass from within the desk and poured.

"So tell me, did you leave your luggage at the hostel? Won't people be searching for you?"

"Me? Na. I have a buddy who said he'd cover for me. I didn't have much luggage with me anyhow; it's just a weekend trip."

"You have a lot of friends then I take it?"

"Well, no. I know a lot of people, and I go out and do stuff, but I wouldn't say I have a lot of friends." He paused as if pondering this for the first time. "I think I still consider you my best friend. That's kind of weird hu?"

"I don't think it's very wise."

"What about you?"

"I have acquaintances. I have business associates. Mostly, I don't have time for friends."

"Yeah, you said that earlier," Phoenix wiggled uncomfortably. "Look, um, are you going to drink that wine? Or just show it off."

"It needs time to breath. But, well, here." He passed the glass to Phoenix who took a slurp.

"Mm. Am I drinking alone?"

"I only have one glass up here."

Phoenix patted the other arm of the chair. "Here, bring the bottle. We'll share."

Miles approached and felt his heart pulled in two directions. A thin line, as light as moonbeam, had suddenly materialized, the other end attached to Phoenix, who was winding him closer, ever closer. However, the thick, harsh cord which tethered him to his current life still let its rough surface be known. Although he seemed to have found some slack in it, he knew it was still there.

He sat down in the armchair and Phoenix pivoted to lean his knees against him. He held out his now-empty glass. "Refill."

Miles poured, then took the glass and drank. Phoenix draped his arm over the top of the chair. "So what now, Mr. Edgeworth?"

"Please, don't call me that. Edgeworth is fine."

"Edgeworth. I'm really happy I found you here. I know it was stupid to come when you were obviously ignoring any attempt I made to get a hold of you. I'm glad you let me come into your office, as small and snobby as it was."

"My office is not small," Miles interjected.

"Ok ok." Phoenix took the glass and downed the wine. "What I'm saying is, I guess we do have different lives right now, but you found time for me. I was hoping you would, but I couldn't be sure. So I just went ahead and did what I _thought_ was right."

"Which is what you always do."

"I guess so."

"What is it that I always do?" Miles asked, more to himself.

"You do what you _know_ is right," Phoenix said immediately. "I don't know how, but that's what you always did."

Miles took the wine glass from Phoenix's hand and set it on the floor next to the half empty bottle. He then pulled Phoenix down off the arm of the chair and kissed him again. The taste of wine was still on both their lips. Miles sought to drink him in, bringing his hand up to Phoenix's face, the rough slight stubble of his cheek, then through his dark hair to the back of his head. He was warm, sweet, full and generous in the mouth, with an irresistible body. He'd go well with steak.

"Wait," Phoenix broke away, gazing into Miles' eyes. "Are you sure we should do this?"

"Hm. Didn't you just say I know what's right?"

"Yeah but, I mean… I don't want things to go too fast or anything."

"You don't?"

"I mean, unless you're okay with it. I don't know, we just, I mean, met. Again. I don't want to screw it up."

His anxiety was as adorable as it was annoying. And though Miles' heart was near beating though his chest, and other things were rising to the occasion, he decided he could back off. For now.

They spent the night mostly talking. Miles had never known what 'pillow talk' was, but Phoenix was a master of it. He couldn't believe how much they talked. About nothing, about everything, and on and on. Two subjects he avoided: his father, and his choice of profession.

When it came time to sleep, they shared the same bed. Just like old times.

On Saturday, they rose early and Miles was able to smuggle Phoenix out again without notice through a laundry access stair. They had coffee and toured the town. Miles saw things he'd only heard of. Things he'd never taken the time to seek out. Things he'd never been allowed to see due to their frivolity and uselessness. Markets, galleries, tourist sites, shops. Phoenix insisted on buying him a silly little teacup at one.

They stayed mostly platonic during their gallivants through town, the thick rope of severity not letting Miles completely forget the façade he had to wear out in public. A few times they let their hands touch, but mostly they just exchange glances.

Still, Miles was sure if he keep his passions in check much longer, he'd explode.

Driving back to the mansion, he turned up the classical music that had been playing on his satellite radio.

"This is really good. Is it Iwadare Noriyuki?"

Miles was impressed, and said as much. "I didn't expect you'd know a piece by its composer."

Phoenix smiled a mysterious smile. "I know a little about music."

They pulled up to the gate, and Miles said, "duck" and threw his coat over the form of Phoenix, who laughed gently as they pulled through.

Miles parked the car in the underground parking garage again and turned it off. As he unlatched his safety belt and moved to open his door, Phoenix peeked playfully from beneath his jacket and whispered, "wait," laying his hand on Mile's thigh.

Miles did as he was told, and Phoenix snaked out from underneath the jacket and flicked the switch which brought the driver's seat supine. He let himself rest against the length of Edgeworth's body, much as he had only a few short days ago. Or, God, was it only yesterday? It felt like they'd been together so much longer than that.

"Thanks. Today was fun. I had a good time."

"You're welcome, of course," Miles murmured.

Phoenix smiled, that lopsided, glowing way. He leaned in, placing his lips lightly on Miles', the musky scent of his skin melding with the heavy leather of the car's interior. He kissed him, small, short kisses, lightly working his way down his jaw, to nuzzle his neck. A shiver, goosebumps up and down Miles' arms, then Phoenix slid lower. His fingers played at the edge of his waistband and Miles gasped.

"What are you doing?"

Phoenix shook his head. "No, don't you remember? This can't be happening. You told me I'm not even here." He took his sweet time undoing the trouser fasteners. Finally with a sigh, he slid his hands inside, caressing the long, hard member, held back only by the fabric of undergarments. He locked eyes with Miles as he slid down between his legs.

"Ohh," Miles groaned, letting his eyes fall closed as Phoenix grasped his cock. He began to move slowly, stroking gently, then increasing pressure. Then a touch of wetness. Miles opened his eyes to see Phoenix touch his tongue to the tip, then envelop him completely, the inside of his mouth silken in a way he could never have imagined. In and out he moved, Miles let his hips rise to sink deep into Phoenix's throat.

"More, more," he panted. Phoenix complied, with speed, agility, and stamina, until Miles fought to keep from screaming. His nails dug into the side of the car's leather seat to brace himself.

"Yes," Phoenix said, working with his hand while he spoke. "Come for me." He took Miles into his mouth again, and sucked and stroked.

Miles came, arching his back, cries of pleasure caught in his throat, escaping as quiet huffs. He felt the pulse, felt Phoenix swallowing hungrily. Withdrawing. Sliding back up his body. Miles clung to him as the spasms of ecstasy slowed.

"Thank God for tinted windows, eh?"

* * *

Smexxxyness. Thank you to Miss-Hirokins.x for the comment! It really means a lot. And to my followers, I am so glad you want to find out what I have in store for these two. It all falls down tomorrow.


	9. Chapter One Part 6

January

2012

Chapter One-Part 6

They fell into his room, barely able to shut the door behind them before they were on each other. Miles wanted to taste every inch of him. In the privacy of his own bedroom, he unleashed his innermost desires: namely, strip Phoenix and have him every which way to Sunday. Literally. Set free, his intensity would have frightened him had he been rational enough for reflection.

His coat lay discarded on the floor, he pulled at his cravat and flung that away as well. He grabbed Phoenix's shoulders and kissed him hungrily, deeply. The taste of his sex was still there, in his mouth, on his tongue. It drove Miles wild, to think what had happened in the car. What Phoenix had commanded of him. What he had done.

Phoenix broke away and backed further into the room, pulling his own outerwear off, kicking his shoes aside and working to undo his scarf. Miles helped him untangle himself, then slid his hands under his shirt and pulled it over his head, tousling his spiky hair even more and causing it to go all static. He ran his hands through it, down over the smooth skin of Phoenix's back, embracing him as the dark haired man arched into his arms. Suddenly Phoenix recoiled with a gasp. Miles froze.

"Brr! Your buttons are cold!" Phoenix whispered huskily, working quickly to undo the offending items. That finished, he stripped off the vest and they both undid the remaining buttons of Mile's shirt. Phoenix pulled it roughly off his shoulders, only to reveal Miles' undershirt.

"Geeze, how many layers do you have?"

"Shut up," Miles growled. Finally they were both bare-chested, and he wrapped his arms around him again, shivering with so much pent up emotion, desire, fear, want, pleasure. Phoenix returned his embrace, and the shock of skin-on-skin contact almost caused Miles' knees to buckle. He dipped his head to Phoenix's neck, suckling at his throat. Cradling him as he leaned back, he urged him with a slight pressure to sink to the ground, laying him down upon the thick pile rug.

"You look so good like this," Phoenix said, his eyes flashing in the dim light to Edgeworth's toned middle, his broad shoulders. He reached his hands up to stroke his chest, running the tips of his fingers through the patch of blond hair between his pectorals, then outwards and over his nipples. Edgeworth let a shuttering sigh escape his lips at the touch, bent down and swallowed him up. Phoenix did not fight him, met his probing tongue with his, ran his fingers up his neck to his face to pull him in even closer.

Miles longed to be there forever, his mouth enveloping lips, tongue thrusting, drinking him in. But he also craved more.

"I want you," he breathed, slipping one hand beneath Phoenix's body. "I've wanted you for so long."

Phoenix twisted and Miles moved with him, his body forming a tight "S" against his back. He reached around with his other hand and undid the front of Phoenix's jeans, then sunk both hands down into his boxers and found his prize.

Phoenix moaned.. Miles inhaled the scent of his hair and the juicy fruity aroma of whatever it was that he put in it. It was surprisingly soft and exceptionally messy. Miles moved his leg slightly upwards and hooked his foot on the edge of Phoenix's pants. With one straightening movement, he removed them.

Less encumbered by cloth, he stroked Phoenix's shaft. It was thick, ridged. Droplets of pre-cum helped his palm slide smoothly back and forth. Phoenix took Miles' hand and brought it to his mouth, taking his fingers inside, moistened them, then dropped them back down to slide up and back. Phoenix moved his body in rhythm, slithering his hips as Miles tightened his grip, increased his speed. His other hand stroked his balls, ran ink-stained fingers over Phoenix's taut stomach, trailing up his inner thigh and back down again.

"You're so quiet," Miles whispered in his ear. "Is this alright?"

"Mmm," Phoenix hummed, "yeah. Just enjoying the ride. Maybe we should get up on the bed?"

They moved swiftly to relocate, Phoenix tugging at Edgeworth slacks, which he discarded. They slid underneath the cool bedding, entangled limbs, busy hands, exploring each other by touch and by taste.

Miles slid his hands down to cup Phoenix's ass, then edged his way under the covers to take the length of him into his mouth. It was the first time he'd tried such a thing, and he sought to emulate what Phoenix had done that had felt so wonderful. Judging from Phoenix's heavy breathing, he wasn't doing too badly on his first try.

Still, it was more tiring than he expected. While he worked his mouth smoothly up and down, he let one of his hands drift down Phoenix's ass, sliding it inch by inch down his crevasse. He didn't feel any resistance, so he continued on. Then he felt a hand grasp wrist, guiding him, firmly drawing him closer to the spot. He glanced upwards to see Phoenix, eyes closed, head thrown back, a look of bliss on his face. He touched a finger to that rosebud pucker, and saw, as well as felt, Phoenix take a quick intake of breath.

"Ohhhh," was all he said, his lips parting slightly. Miles wet his finger with saliva and dove back again, this time with more pressure, moving his fingertip to slide over the sensitive area, applying pressure.

Phoenix's breathing increased to ragged pants. Edgeworth bobbed his head faster, letting his tongue lap gently at his balls with each dip. He felt Phoenix reacting with each intake, felt him tense, heard him groan.

"No," Phoenix panted, pulling back, pushing Miles onto the bed, and in one movement, straddling him. He stretched his nude body up, balancing on his knees and grasped himself, pumped slow at first, then with renewed intensity. "I'm going to come."

"Yes," Miles writhed beneath him. Phoenix, his face contorting, sucked in breath and finally came, pearls of white spattering across Miles' chest and belly. Phoenix breathed hard, looked almost shocked.

"I…oh. I'm sorry."

"No no," Edgeworth shook his head, "That was…incredible."

Phoenix fell onto the bed, exhausted. Miles, touching him once gently on the forehead, eased away to the bathroom. When he returned, he brought a warm washcloth, which he handed to Phoenix. Phoenix chuckled, "what service."

Miles was enthralled and exhilarated. He wanted to say something, but "thank you" seemed so inadequate. Anything else he could think of sounded awkward or obscene. Phoenix, once he had tidied himself up a bit, slid in to nestle next to Edgeworth's side, finding his hand under the covers and interlacing their fingers.

"You were great," Phoenix said.

Miles was thankful someone said something. "You too."

Then, he let his mind go blank, and fell asleep.

* * *

Special thanks to rune101 for the most recent kind words. Hope you all enjoyed this part (because really, I almost hate to post the next one. We all know Edgeworth is a jerk in the game, right? Just checking...). Reviews keep me goin', so please help me know you're reading, and I'll do my best to keep writing. Thank you!


	10. Chapter One Part 7

January

2012

Chapter One-Part 7

Miles padded down the hallway, dumbstruck by the euphoria of the past two nights. He'd never felt the floorboards of the mansion under his bare feet before. He'd always had to wear slippers, as was proper in the household. This morning, he'd just thrown on a pair of boxers instead of his usual complete leisure ensemble, and the floor felt cool, smooth, different. He felt so different.

Two nights, no nightmares.

He stopped and stared around the dining room. Oh if only they were in one of the country estates. In the city, he wasn't allowed to keep any pets, but in the country, there was always a dog to greet him in the morning. His favorite was Spitz. That would make it perfect.

He grinned to himself, and walked through to the kitchen. Maybe he'd make coffee instead of tea. Why not?

"::My God, Miles!::

Ice water shot through his veins and he froze, nearly dropping the coffee pot.

":: How dare you appear near naked and in a servant space!::"

The huge, imposing form of Manfred von Karma stood in the doorway to the kitchen, glaring, arms crossed. Behind him stood his young daughter, a mirror image in feminine miniature, except instead of a frown she wore a sideways smile.

In German Miles stammered, "::Sir. I didn't expect you home until tonight.::" His voice rang pathetically even in his own ears.

"::And that is an excuse? Franziska and I have been up for 18 hours straight preparing for her exams. She is here to challenge you, and you appear here with such disregard I feel you are not worthy even to loose to her.::"

Miles attempted to keep his composure, but a wave of sudden and intense shame blinded him. He felt sick. What had he done? What did he think he was doing? Miles Edgeworth, the renowned protégé of the great Manfred von Karma, neglecting his obligations.

Then he thought of Phoenix, upstairs, in his bed. Naked.

Everything he had ever worked for, all the guarantees of carrying on the Perfect Prosecutor's lineage, all the break-walls set up to protect him from his past… was he just going to throw that away in a mess of scandal and humiliation? Shit. How could he have been so stupid? How had he let himself forget this feeling of helplessness, worthlessness? A feeling he promised himself he'd never feel again?

"::I am sorry, Sir.::"

"::So you admit you have no excuse. Yet you have disobeyed the laws and rules of this household like a common criminal. I would expect you to rectified this situation with haste and return in no less than 15 minutes prepared to debate Franziska in a mock battle!::"

"::Yes sir.::"

Miles set the coffee pot down on the counter, painfully aware of the von Karmas' eyes on his exposed body as he walked out of the kitchen and bolted up the long staircase to the second floor. Once at the top of the curving flight, he clutched at the wall to steady himself, and prayed he wouldn't pass out.

Full blown panic was constricting his chest. Oh God, not now. The rope coiled around him like a constrictor, all the way up his body, encircling his neck like a noose. His felt dizzy, his world spinning out of control.

It wasn't just the return of Manfred and Franziska; their timing was just off. It was that he'd let himself be tempted. Did he actually think he was going to have some sort of relationship with Phoenix Wright? Phoenix somehow staying in Germany, or coming to be with him in America. It would be a disaster. Years of work down the drain for what? Friendship? Lust? Weaknesses. All of them.

He was not going back. He'd put far too much effort into becoming what he was now, what he had to be: in control, successful, logical. Anything that caused him to lose that control, to ignore his work, was a danger.

He had to get Wright out of there, and out of his life.


	11. Chapter One Part 8

January

2012

Chapter One-Part 8

Phoenix sat at the foot of the bed-Miles' bed-his legs dangling over the edge. He'd pulled on his boxers and started to collect the rest of his clothes, but sleep still played at the corners of his eyes. He yawned.

What a relief. His body still hummed with the sensations of the night before. Thinking back, Phoenix knew his plan to find Miles and tell him how he really felt had been half-baked to begin with. It hadn't made any sense. Well, nothing new there. He usually had to figure things out in medias res, but that was okay. Even if his memories turned out to be all made up, even if the feelings weren't reciprocated, even if the "thing" he thought there had been between them had all been in his head, he had hoped he'd at least be able to see Miles again. Get some closure, one way or another.

That Miles apparently did feel that way about him, well, that was just the best.

The door opened and Phoenix looked up.

Miles was standing there, bare-chested, with a serious look upon his face. Strangely, the look seemed to mirror the one he'd given Phoenix that very first day, on the staircase outside of the German courthouse. Miles turned away, started to gather his clothing from the floor and quickly moved to the walk-in closet.

"Hey," Phoenix said, rising from the bed and padding across the floor. "Where did you go? Is there breakfast somewhere?"

Miles was donning what appeared to be his uniform: maroon slacks, white shirt, vest, jacket, and that fluffy thing around his neck. Phoenix smirked. Who but a gay man could get away with something like that?

He approached Edgeworth and wrapped his arms around his middle, laying his cheek between his shoulder blades. Hmm. His body was tense. Something was up.

"How are you feeling?"

Miles Edgeworth's words were restrained.

"This is all wrong."

Phoenix tried to act amused. "It doesn't feel wrong."

He pulled his arms tighter against him, but there was a stiffness, an aloofness. He held him, but didn't feel any closer to him. Miles spoke again.

"You leave today."

"Well, yeah."

"Then, none of this matters."

"What do you mean?"

"After you leave."

"Well it's not like I'm dying. I can come back and visit again."

There was a pause. "No. I don't think you can."

"Why not? _You're_ not dying. You're a grown man, an adult. You can make your own decisions."

"I know." Phoenix let his arms slip away as Miles continued. "And right now I know my career is more important to me than… this."

"Miles," Phoenix said slowly, "Please forgive me, but you're talking crazy. You'd never put anything ahead of people you care about. I know you. That's not like you."

"But it is. I tried to tell you. This is who I am now. This has all been… fun. But, you have to go." He paused, then asked, "what did you expect?"

Phoenix suddenly felt very naïve, and very confused.

"You'll… you're serious. You want me to go."

"Yes."

It was as if the world had done an about-face. Phoenix took a few steps back, a flush ascending his cheeks. He laughed uneasily. What was happening? A million questions flew through his head: had he been wrong? Had he missed something? Had he been used?

"Can't we, talk about this?"

"There is nothing to talk about," Mile said, looking in a mirror and adjusting the thing around his neck. "I made myself as clear as I could. This never happened. You were never here."

He looked at Miles and heard his voice echoing back from the recent past: "_I don't have time for you. For friends. They're a distraction._" How had he ignored this?

"I feel like a jackass."

Silence.

"I… I thought you felt a certain way about me."

"You are about four kilometers from your hostel. This should be enough for a cab." Miles picked up his wallet from the desktop and pulled out a wad of money. Phoenix stared at him, incredulous.

"You're kidding."

"I'm not."

"I don't believe you."

"And furthermore Wright, you must not try to contact me again. I can't have you distracting me any further." He turned and looked Phoenix in the eye. Quietly, he said, "and if you think you can somehow use my, admittedly, frivolous actions of this weekend to your benefit, banish the thought. I have the power to make you very, very sorry."

"I wouldn't, I'd never…"

Phoenix was trembling, wanting to protest further. His hands were balled in fists. He'd never hit anyone in his entire life, but he'd never wanted to as badly as he wanted to hit Edgeworth right now. Miles, who's calm face was flat as stone.

"Hit me if you want," Miles said, glancing down. "if it will put a little denouement on this affair. You can leave by the laundry access."

Instead of throwing a punch, Phoenix threw on his shirt, inside out at first, then struggled into his jeans. _Just get out of here,_ he thought. _Forget this ever happened, just like he said. You wanted closure, there you go._ He stormed towards the door, then realized he'd forgot his scarf.

Phoenix turned and saw Edgeworth bend over to pick up the end of the scarf that was sticking out from under the bed. He bounded forward to grab it.

Their eyes met for a moment, and Edgeworth started to speak, "I…"

"Fuck you!"

Phoenix yanked at the scarf, but Miles held on tight and was pulled forward.

"I never want to see you again, Phoenix Wright," he said to his face, and let go of his end of the scarf. Tears spilled down Phoenix's cheeks and he could do nothing to stop them. He shook his head, angrily wound the scarf around his neck, and burst out of the room, letting the door crash behind him.

* * *

Thank you Natalie for reviewing me!


	12. Chapter One Part 9

January

2012

Chapter One-Part 9

Miles had no time to think. He too left his room, closing the door carefully, then walked, measuring his pace not to hurry but to be certain he made it down the stairs in a timely manor. He breezed into the study where Manfred and Franziska were waiting.

Manfred huffed, looking at a pocket watch. "You are lucky."

"Luck has no place in the courtroom," Miles stated simply. A smile, without warmth, curled Manfred's lips.

"Where are your supplemental materials?"

They were back in his office, in the courthouse, but Miles tapped the side of his head and smiled. It was a ruse, but he was going to have to wing it. Manfred raised an eyebrow, but Franziska tilted her head and crossed her arms as if to say, "yeah, right."

"Very well," Manfred said, taking his position at a lectern, his back facing a two-story window hung with heavy crimson curtains. His children took their positions at two desks on opposite side of the room. "I will act as judge. I will also relay the words of the witnesses called and any other information. Franziska, of course, is the prosecutor, which makes Miles the defense attorney. As you have no doubt studied the case, I will not waste your time with details. This case is based on one that was heard before a U.S. court in the distant past, but which has been augmented for our training purposes and to reflect the new three-day limitations. The presentation is thus:

Celia Later, talent agent, was killed while in her home, shot twice in the chest through a bedroom door. Charged with her murder is a musician she represented, Dan Gerous. Mr. Gerous called the police stating that Sly Foxx, a roadie who had recently worked on one of Dan's tours, broke into his house and was the actual murderer. It is up to you to discover the truth, and to punish the guilty."

Miles kept his cool demeanor, but inside, his mind was racing. He had a working knowledge of the case, and that it eventually went through two mistrials before both Gerous and Foxx were found guilty of lesser counts. And he had read through the briefing that von Karma had given him last week before leaving, but honestly, it had been lowest on his list of tasks. Still, he wracked his memory, which was one of his greatest assets, and worked to picture the descriptions of the weapons, the witnesses, the evidence.

Franziska began by calling her first witness: the detective who had investigated the case. As she began her questioning, Miles was distracted by the thin sliver of light which shone through a part in the curtains. Over Manfred von Karma's shoulder, he saw a lone figure shuffling down the drive, trailing a long red scarf in the snow.

"Attorney Edgeworth!" Manfred's voice was booming, and Miles jumped. His eyes refocused on the black marbles of Von Karma's stony stare.

"Yes, your Honor?"

"Have you no objection to the presentation of the detective's findings?"

Miles had not heard a thing about it, but he remembered that the detective had been a bumbling fool. Had in fact not followed police procedure when collecting evidence at the scene of the crime.

"Yes sir. Objection: the defense wishes to question how the detective missed the bullets fired in the front room."

"Sustained." Manfred held his gaze. "If I determine that you are not giving your all to this exercise," he stated coldly, "I will have no problem canceling your trip and sending Franziska alone."

Miles bowed slightly. "Understood your Honor."

_Get it together,_ Miles, he told himself. _You need to focus. Wasn't that the plan? You made your decision, now the only choice is to win. Put all your energy and attention towards winning. Then all the sacrifice will be worth it. _

He pulled his focus in, centered it upon the task at hand, and, over the next hour and a half, blew Franziska away.

"The prosecution would ask the court for ah... a five minute recess," she stated after all of her presentations and witnesses had been shot down or invalidated. Manfred angrily slapped his hand down on the lectern as a pseudo gavel and shoed her away to gather her thoughts and her papers. He walked towards Miles who stood calmly at his desk, arms crossed perhaps a bit triumphantly.

"Good, good," Manfred said, circling the desk like a hungry wolf. "This is what I was hoping from you, my protégé." He stopped before Miles, his hands clasped behind his back. "I must say, your understanding of the case is second only to your understanding of the system."

"I have only you to thank for that, Sir."

"Oh? I was also going to say that the position of Defense Attorney becomes you. No chance of you switching sides, would there be?"

Miles' breath caught in his chest. "No sir. None."

Standing for one more long moment, Manfred finally repeated, "good, good," and went off to lecture his daughter. Miles did not let his guard falter, even as his eyes flickered to the narrow view through the window, which now showed only the cold white landscape beyond.


	13. Chapter One part 10

January

2012

Chapter One-Part 10

Phoenix was a wreck on his walk back to town. The air was cold, the wind blew bitterly, and his nose would not stop running. He was, however, able to thumb a lift with a man hauling a truckload of sheep.

"I pity for young lambs whose coats are not thick enough for the German winter," he said, not in his native tongue, but Phoenix caught his drift.

Phoenix arrived at the hostel and had by that time gathered himself up and put aside his anger. For the most part.

"Nick!" a dark-haired girl called out to him as the truck pulled away. A bus was loading at the front door of the hostel and she ran from her spot in line to greet him. "Where have you been?"

He glanced around and gave her an _ixnay on the issinmay_ look "What do you mean," he said, "I've been here the whole time."

She put her fists to her hips, "oh really? Since when?"

"You know, since we went to the art museum. To see all the… art."

"Ha ha. Whatever."

"Yo, Wright!" a voice called from the hostel doorway. Phoenix looked up and a knapsack containing his only luggage hit him square in the chest. "You owe me for looking after that," said his classmate James.

"I know, thanks man."

They all piled onto the bus, the chaperone giving the disheveled Phoenix a weary look as he passed her by. "Glad to see you today Mr. Wright."

"Thanks for not ratting me out Miss Tate," he whispered to her as he passed.

He seated himself with James and in front of Meg, the girl who had first greeted him. He raked his fingers through his messy hair as the bus started to roll.

"Man, you stink," said James.

Phoenix sniffed self-consciously. "Sorry, I didn't have time for a shower."

"Well you smell like a barn,"

"So?" Meg threw her arms over the back of the bus seat and let them dangle between the two boys.

"So what?" asked Phoenix easily.

She hit his shoulder, "so how did your mystery date go?"

"Oh, pretty well."

"So you found him?" asked James.

"Yeah. He was… he was looking pretty good. Doing good." _Good for himself,_ he thought, trying not to let any bitterness show in his words. He couldn't believe how he'd been used.

"What did you old friends get up to?"

Phoenix hesitated. _We had drinks. We talked. We made out. We talked some more. I kissed him. He kissed me. We slept together. We hung out. It was great._ "We had a great time. What did you guys do?"

"That's it?" Meg asked unconvinced. "He looked good and you had a great time?"

_I gave him a blow job in his car. He took me to his room and ravished me. And then… and then he threw me out. He said he never wants to see me again_. Unbidden, his face grew hot and he felt unwelcome tears welling. Quickly he looked away and forced a sneeze. "Anyone got a tissue? I think I have another cold coming on."

"Oh no way," James pulled his shirt up over his nose like a surgical mask and threw his body to the corner of the seat. "Nick, you get the worst colds!"

Meg peered at Phoenix and fished a tissue from her purse, handing it to him. "Weeelll let me tell you about the absolutely boring time we had!"

She launched into a diatribe and Phoenix was grateful. He knew there was more to Miles' abrupt about face, _(there had to be!)_ but right now, his way to deal with the situation was to convince himself that Edgeworth was an asshole and leave it at that. For now.

-End of Chapter One-


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